


'Round the Bandol

by fandomfairytales



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hogwarts Professors, Marriage Proposal, Sightseeing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wizarding Monte-Carlo, all their friends ship it, becuase why not, couples holiday, french riviera, i wanted glitz and glam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 14:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15820893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfairytales/pseuds/fandomfairytales
Summary: Written as part of Strictly Dramione’s “Summer Loving - Back to Hogwarts” Writing Fest 2018.





	'Round the Bandol

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my own travel photos from the French Riviera/Monaco used in the asthetic; its a fluffy, cheesy holiday proposal with a little smut sprinkled in at the start.
> 
> apologies in advance for my terrible play on words, I saw my chance with the carousel and the town name and took it :)

 

 

 

oOo

Caught in a flurry of last-minute packing and travel anxiety, the only thing on Hermione Granger’s mind was how amazing this trip was going to be. If someone had asked her a year ago if she thought taking up a position as Hogwarts’ newest History of Magic Professor would make her this happy; well, she’d have laughed in their face. She loved teaching, but not _that_ much. Yet, here she was, two years after the war ended and after months of picking fights and insulting the new Potions Master, stopping her organizing to snog him senseless, for no other reason that he was too close not to.

oOo

Professor Draco Malfoy had started out as a bump in the road she hadn’t counted on when she arrived at Hogwarts to undertake her new position. He was coarse and bitter; and according to him, she was swotty and frustrating as ever. They couldn’t have a single conversation without ending up in a screaming match. Minerva had reprimanded them on no less than five separate occasions; usually, when students had overheard some of the more colourful insults they shot at each other (or the timing of said insults was poor enough to be overheard by faculty)

Then, the second of May came around and they got drunk. Not buzzed, not tipsy; full-blown, sloppy and in her case; mildly cuddly drunk. She’d gone up to the astronomy tower, paying her respects in her own way when she found the younger Malfoy knocking back the contents of a flask with a wince. As he tipped his head back, she noticed the slight glisten of fresh tear tracks in the moonlight and decided for once she wouldn’t antagonize him.

She stood there awkwardly, not knowing whether to leave or stand her ground; but he didn’t tease her or try to get a rise, he didn’t even really acknowledge her. He seemed to realise she wasn’t leaving and silently offered her the flask, for some unknown reason she took it. Sliding down the wall to sit beside him, they passed it back and forth until the chill of the night air no longer bothered them and she had lost count of how many times it magically refilled.

They stayed up all night talking and by the end of it, she found herself mostly sober, curled up to his side, head on his shoulder and rather enjoying his company. He became her enigma, she just had to figure him and his complicated journey in the wake of the war out.

Slowly he began to trust her and she learned in bits and pieces what had happened to him; that he went from suicidal, to living in the muggle world in an attempt to escape the shadows of the wizarding world; then he ended up in Bulgaria, to complete his potions mastery (which he had surprisingly started under Snape). Sometime later, having decided to travel a bit, he returned to England to bury his mother; choosing to stay and look after the family business until it was back on its feet. After that, he reconnected with Andromeda and Teddy, went out of his way to make his apologies to the people he hurt and finally, accepted a position as Slughorn’s replacement upon his retirement.

For every answer she gained, she gave her own in turn. The weight of expectations placed on her, why she didn’t end up at the ministry, choosing to teach instead, her very public break up with Ron, the nightmares she suffered and how she ran away from her issues for months on end, having lost her parents in a car crash just after the war ended.

That night had sparked a tentative friendship which they had enthusiastically fanned, he would drop in to spend every spare moment with her, content to sit and watch her work if it meant being close, and his excuses were equal parts hilarious and adorably implausible. Their screaming matches gradually became intellectual debates, insults became playful banter and all of a sudden, he was her everything and she couldn’t imagine a day going by without him.

 

oOo

So here they were, just over a year later, a couple and preparing to take a much needed holiday with friends. (Harry, Ginny, Ron and Pansy to be specific).

Oh yes, Draco and his fellow snakes had ended up good mates with the Gryffindors. Being thrown together in the adult world did wonders. They balanced each other incredibly well once prejudice was taken out of the equation; Slytherin cunning met Gryffindor macho and it was a match made in heaven (well almost, they all got up to far too much mischief when together).

Still, the pond had significantly more fish in it and Hermione was not complaining in the least. She had wonderful new friends, Ron was completely wrapped around Pansy Parkinson’s pinky finger and Luna and Blaise Zabini were getting married over Christmas break. And she had shared a drink with a blond git who ended up stealing her heart.

 

oOo

But back to the snogging. He had his hands firmly buried in her wild hair and she felt like she was being sucked into a black hole as things turned more than a little heated.

Breaking off their kiss, he pouted at her and when she tried to go back to packing; pulled her flush against him and went right back to it despite her trying (and failing) to wriggle away from him.

When he latched on to her neck, she giggled and squirmed as he tickled her sides. She was already breathless, and the laughing wasn't helping the situation.

“Draco… stop that…Aa-haha…mercy!”

“Only if you say you love me”

“Never.” She teased light-heartedly.

He redoubled his efforts and Hermione knew she was done for.

“Nonono! Pleassse…Alright, I yield! I love you!”

“Good.”

Before she could protest, he had walked her back until her knees hit the edge of the bed, they fell together, and she laughed under him as he fluttered kisses down the column of her throat before returning to her waiting lips.

“We’re going to miss the portkey if you keep this up.”

"I need you, now."

She palmed him through his trousers and he groaned, a low sound in his chest that made her shiver with delight. Draco wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t tell her that ‘they’d better be quick about it then’.

She rolled her eyes, but honestly, she didn’t mind his cheesy humour. She worked her fingers through the knot of his tie and attacked the buttons on his shirt, nimble fingers working their way down; mirroring his own movements as he undid her blouse and bra. Working off his belt, she had to stop to let him slide off her skirt, leaving her in nothing but her garters and knickers.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, looking incredibly appreciative and she rolled her eyes again as he begrudgingly took them off. They weren't exactly dressed for travelling but when you have a meeting with the Board of Governors you dress to impress.

“Oh please, I wear these every day, they’re practical.”

“Yeah, but you wear them so bloody well, I can’t help but appreciate that you have those under your robes.”

Merlin help her if he wasn’t a charmer and the way he was currently occupying his fingers was more than perfect. She smiled up at him and he stared back intently and seemed to forget where he was. She whined when he stopped his ministrations and her frown turned into a smirk as she realised time was a wasting and she got to be snarky with him;

“Malfoy, are you going to get on with it?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Yeah”

They didn’t really bother with much preamble, there was time for that… well, some other time. Skin to skin and trying to avoid the clothes she had laid out on the bed, she hooked her legs around his waist and sweet Merlin, she couldn’t help the cry that passed her lips when he bottomed out.

He was practically made for her and bloody hell, did he know how to capitalise on that. He knew how to make her sing. The stretch of him filling her was sublime and she saw stars once he started to move. The friction sending her into another dimension of pleasure. Things were always excellent in the bedroom and they trusted one another; so she wasn’t bothered in the least feeling the silk of his tie sliding against her wrists, she arched up and kissed him as hard as she could, catching him between her bound hands once he was done, holding him against her until he hooked them over a very handy curl in the design of her bedhead. It was pointless but after spending the morning joking about doing just that, she couldn’t help but laugh about it.

Between kisses and sharp thrusts, she still managed to lightly tease him.

“You Only- Did That- To try to-Keep-Me-Here.”

“Maybe.”

In actual fact, he could hardly wait to get her out of dreary London and on a beach somewhere along the Côte d'Azur. As much as he was enjoying spending the summer break with her in her cosy flat, the little secret he had been keeping in his desk drawer for months was now burning a hole in his bag, just waiting for the right time to be presented (which was precisely why he had suggested this holiday).

She tensed her inner muscles in retaliation, earning a wonderfully husky moan from him. He kept the pace perfect but punishing and she had no issues letting him lead. She’d have her chance to pay him back later when she could take her time. He knew how much she hated being deprived of touching him, she had a habit of being handsy, or cupping his face and locking her gaze with his whenever he was on top; he loved when she did that, he could watch every expression, every reaction cross her features and she could do the same. But this time around he intended to have a little fun seeing as she'd decided to rile him up during a meeting.

So, the second he stopped and feigned looking at the time, stating that she wouldn’t be fast enough for them to make it on time; she knew there was a fifty-fifty chance he might leave her wanting unless she did something to coax him back. He acted well enough, she was pretty convinced with her brain half switched off, she didn’t really think about the fact his return was a sure thing based on the simple fact that denying her would be denying himself... unless he had something else in mind…

He looked down at her, still hovering in place and the wait was already enough to prompt her into begging. He faked hesitance, drawing mewling pleas from her as he circled her clit lightly with his thumb; asking her if she was sure she could come quickly and when told. Nodding furiously, he complied, crawling back over her and picking things back up with one hard thrust. It had been a pointless time waste, but for a moment she really had thought he might follow through.

Picking up where he left off, His hands mapped her body with practiced ease touching her just so, he couldn’t seem to make up his mind on where he wanted to put his mouth, but she was too far gone to care about where he was kissing at this point, as long as he kept fucking her fast and deep, there was nothing else. Still, she could feel herself respond to him biting and laving at her neck, a fresh wave of arousal hitting her in the midst of their lovemaking.

They were both well on the way to ‘getting back to packing’ as her brain mildly put it. The sensations they were sharing, slowly heightened and her inclement orgasm hit the moment he ordered her, deft movements of his fingers over her sensitive bud drew her pleasure out just that little bit more, before he followed her over the precipice, letting her swallow his moan as he kissed her sweetly, trying to catch their breath;

"You know you'll always get your way right?"

They both jolted when Ginny’s voice came through on the answering machine loudly enough to reach them, warning them that they had five minutes to get to the portkey or they were being left behind. With sheepish smiles only seen by each other; she stood, their combined fluids dripping between her thighs. After a good scourgifiy or two (magic really was amazing sometimes) and a quick trip to the bathroom, they dressed in a hurry and she spelled the remainder of her necessities into her bag in record time.

Arriving at the designated spot, the look Ginny gave her suggested she hadn’t quite managed to fix all the evidence of what had made them late, she attempted to pat her hair down and not look guilty. Gin, always incorrigibly nosey, was on her in seconds, sidling up to whisper in her ear with an amused look on her face. Hermione knew exactly what it meant.

“It’s not the hair Mi, it’s the hickeys.”

She flushed red and subtly as she could, pointed her wand at her neck to glamour the evidence. Noting she had left her own mark on Draco’s neck, she quickly shot one over at him before Pansy could see it and start gushing about how cute their blonde, frizzy-haired babies were going to be. That was one hell of a tedious conversation considering they both worked with children and certainly didn’t want to think about a screaming infant in the mix just yet.

“Come on then, what’s your excuse this time? Because honestly your last one was lacking creativity; spilt something on yourself? Honestly Mi? Draco sticking his face in your décolletage in the powder room was going to fix that?”

“Oh, please Gin, like yours are any better in the heat of the moment, I seem to recall Harry’s fly being stuck when I walked in on you two in the bathroom last Christmas. As if!”

“Yeah alright, but it’s fun, and you’ve got a place of your own now so, indulge me with a terrible excuse, besides I have a bet with Harry.”

Hermione laughed watching Draco and Harry ruffling Ron’s hair and roughhousing. Things had turned out very different than she had imagined, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. It had been a rocky start for all of them, but eventually, amends were made and past grievances set aside to welcome unity.

“Fine; I forgot to pack, somehow got distracted and ended up tied to my headboard. thats the truth if you can believe it”

Ginny slapped her arm lightly as the two girls broke down into a fit of giggles.

“Well now neither of us win, but yeah, nothing could sound more implausible than that, but I know you two so it’s completely believable. Honestly, you’ve put enough ideas in my head to make things in the Potter/Weasley household more than interesting.”

“You. Are. Welcome.”

Making their way over to the now complete group, they each took hold of the empty Coke can that served as their mode of transportation and looked around in wonder when they landed in the foyer of the Malfoy summer house in Bandol.

 

oOo

Sometimes magic was the most amazing part of life, it solved so many issues. Chasing Hermione up the stairs to their room with a free laugh and wide grin, Draco was glad to know that no unseemly sounds would be wandering down the ridiculously long halls to disturb them or vice versa. He didn’t care what the others got up to in their rooms, he just wasn’t keen on hearing it. Being well off (‘understatement of the year’ he thought sarcastically) thankfully ensured it wasn’t going to be an issue; the house was huge and the silencing charms more than adequate.

They had a week of warm French Riviera weather and he intended to make the most of it; within reason, the last thing he needed was a sunburn. Hermione had already planned their days and it was one of many things he loved about his witch, (he would never get tired of saying that).

Her itinerary was perfectly designed, covering sightseeing, time to relax or soak up some sun; practically a rare magical creature in itself in Scotland. (It almost surprised him she hadn’t scheduled sex in as well, she could be overly practical sometimes, but he found it kind of cute, so he really wouldn’t have cared, besides having it in writing that he’d be getting some wasn’t necessarily a bad thing).

Having been one of her family’s favourite holiday destinations, he looked over her detailed list of tourist spots; he was all too happy to be shown places she loved as a child (it just so happened his ancestors had also been rather enchanted by the area and had a house there, not that he’d ever been, his parents were not beach people). In actual fact, his own curiosity was half the reason he had chosen to bring her here.

Using apparition to get around, it was all too easy to spend every day somewhere different; tomorrow Arles, the next Nice and so on and so forth… Being magical, a good disillusionment spell got you past the lines with ease. Sure, it was an abuse of power, but they weren’t total prats, they would still pay the fee to get in, it’s not like anyone would know they’d jumped the queue to be bothered by it, they practically wouldn’t exist (and a quick spell would fix any muggle scanners, should they come across one, according to Hermione).

Dropping their bags, they headed straight back downstairs to apparate into town. It was mid-afternoon and the beach was calling. Walking down the promenade past palm trees and over burning hot pavement, the boys were begging the girls to include their towels in their bags, Hermione took one for the team, shoving everyone’s belongings into her undetectably extended beach bag (which was honestly big enough without the charm). Draco couldn’t help but smirk at her solution.

 

oOo

Two hours later, Draco was leaning against the sun-warmed wall separating the beach from the footpath, ignoring the feel of rough concrete against the bare skin of his back; he had been enjoying the sight of his beloved chasing Pansy with a wolfish grin, engaging in a spirited game of tag, when Harry half fell, half sat in the sand next to him with an exaggerated ‘oof’.

“So, when are you going to ask her?”

“If my nerve holds, I’ll ask her at the end of the week, you know the plan.”

“Yup, I won’t miss the constant letters about it. But, it’s a really nice thing you’re doing, letting all of us be part of it. Her parents used to bring her here every year before the war; she already loves that you thought to holiday here, she’ll love the real reason even more.”

“It’s my way of doing this the right way, I want to give her that, I want to give her everything and that still falls short of what she deserves; I couldn’t ask her father, so I’ve asked all of you… and dragging you all out here is as much for convenience as it is to have her family close.”

“You're a good man Draco, whether you believe it or not; either way she loves you and you make her happy, so we’re happy.”

Draco and Harry chatted for a while longer, watching the girls run about and shared a laugh or two. It was strange being friends with former enemies (even stranger when Weaselbee was part of that equation) but it had happened and all of them were rather glad to be on better terms.

Turns out that when there are no sides to worry about, no houses or rivalries, it’s easier to build a bridge over the past. Draco jumped up and grabbed two bottles of whatever French beer Ginny had bought. Muttering a handy cooling charm, the bottles frosted over a little as he handed one over to Harry, downing them quickly before returning to the fun himself as afternoon turned to dusk (okay maybe there was still a little rivalry, they hadn’t lost their sense of competition and drinking was a pretty safe contest).

 

oOo

After slipping into an alley and apparating back, Hermione hadn’t felt so relaxed in years; the beer at the beach and wine at dinner had nothing to do with it. Everyone was a little sunburnt, but that tended to happen when a crew of sun-seeking Brits ventured out of their perennial English (or Scottish) cloudbank. Ron’s skin was mottled shades of red and white, inflamed where he had managed to miss applying sunscreen. No one was sure if it was ironic Draco had managed to avoid the same fate with his equally fair skin, but they all engaged in a bit of playful teasing regarding Ron looking rather like a striped peppermint.

It was nice to stay up late chatting and playing cards and just enjoying life. Ron and Pansy eventually snuck out, if that was possible among a group of six, then Harry and Ginny the longest standing couple decided to turn in early; leaving Hermione and Draco curled up together on the lounge, enjoying the freedom of being close without nosy students and faculty around to accidentally stumble in.

 

Hermione was confused when she woke up in a warm bed. Realizing Draco had carried her up reminded her of early childhood and the way her Mum would let her stay up late reading stories, only to fall asleep together on the lounge; they would both wake up magically transported to their beds and little Hermione, not knowing about her abilities or the other world existing parallel to hers, had often chatted excitedly about the fairies making sure they were all tucked in; her Mum would laugh with her and look knowingly at her Father who had been the one to carry them both to bed.

Draco had his arms around her, keeping her close and she loved that he always sought her out during the night, his subconscious cared little for subtlety; she knew what a losing battle it was to try pulling away. He held her like a drowning man would a life preserver and she loved feeling so needed, liked being his source of comfort (something her sense of independence would despise with anyone else).

She snuggled closer and he stirred a little, it was funny knowing that when he gained consciousness, he would still be surprised she was moving against him with the sole intent of kicking off a morning romp. Adding a little more pressure seemed to do the trick and she felt three things happen at once; his grip tightened, his body stiffened, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he re-entered reality.

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as her prediction came to fruition. She could feel how hard he was behind her and she regretted falling asleep before she had the chance to have her wicked way with him.

His warm breath ghosted across her skin as he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck with a mumbled ‘morning’ as she shimmied out of her shorts and underwear.

Turning over to face him she brushed a few stray hairs from his eyes before pushing him onto his back and straddling his hips taking the time to remove her shirt as well. Knowing what was coming he placed his hands on her thighs and gave her a lazy smile.

“You forgot your payback last night.”

“Did I? Maybe making you wait was my payback?”

She kissed her way across his jaw and down his neck deciding that she was in the mood to suck a few little love bites under his collarbones, she knew they would just manage to be covered under his T-shirt.

“No… You forgot.”

He breathed into her hair as she started to wind him up in earnest, moving down to brush her fingers against the waistband of his boxers and then slipping inside to run them over the decidedly juxtaposed soft skin of his increasingly hard cock.

She looked up at him with her best doe eyes and replied as she made her first teasingly light stroke. He covered his face with his hands as he swallowed down a moan.

“Hmm… Yeah, I forgot; but I'm making up for it now.”

He sighed as she moved her hand a little faster and the second he went to touch her in return she stopped, she’d get what she wanted in time.

“Uh-uh. Touch me and I’ll stop. I'm trusting you.”

‘He’s not getting off that easy.’ She thought with a mental snigger at her innuendo, vanishing his boxers in a flash.

She toyed with him a little while longer before deciding she needed to move things along a little for herself. Adding a little more substance to her touches to rig the game; he bucked, his hands automatically grasping at her and she saw the frustration of his mistake cross his features almost instantly. He groaned low and deep when she released him, it sounded like mourning.

He knew exactly what was coming next and he welcomed it despite losing her hand around him. She gave him a quick peck and waited for his acknowledgement that he was ready for her to proceed. He didn’t move to touch her, or draw her down onto his waiting tongue, he kept his hands firmly fisted in the sheets. As she moved up the bed, giving him the most delightful view of her glistening cunt, before lowering herself to his waiting mouth.

Gods above, he loved doing this. She was slick and warm and tasted sweet as honey. Filthy expletives escaping her with every exhalation. Her encouragements spurring him on to be better than ‘good’; as she put it, wanting to reach perfection for her as she came apart above him. He felt each tense of her thighs as she drew closer to her peak, even though she knew there was no way anyone could hear her (impossibly long halls and charms made sure of it), she kept her words and moans barely above a whisper. Her breathing stuttered as he redoubled his efforts, swirling his tongue around her clit and then making her buck against his lips when he sucked the sensitive bud into his mouth; it was like he had run a current through her and her reactions had him harder than when she had been touching him.

Her movements gradually became jerky and erratic as she inched closer to her bliss; There was a finality in her reaching the end of her crescendo. Her orgasm was announced with a husky, ragged sigh as every muscle in her body tensed, if she had made any other sounds after that, he was unaware, her thighs holding his head in place like a vise, covered his ears, she quivered with the effort of restraining herself, not wanting to crush him completely. She doubled over slightly, and her movements became more languid than frantic; rocking her hips to draw out the last of her pleasure, he gladly lapped at her folds, the taste of her intoxicating, sweet and all-encompassing as she took what she wanted, gushing over his face as she got it.

He was so hard it was almost painful, he needed something, anything and he’d followed her orders, he knew she would oblige. But waiting was killing him slowly.

She slid down his body and with a smirk reminiscent of his own, gently swiped her hand over his mouth before kissing him softly. He flinched when she touched his cock, lining him up with her entrance she sunk down onto him. It took everything he had not to come right then.

Fisting the sheets until his knuckles turned white, he let out a sharp breath through his nose, fighting against his instincts.

“Mmh, Hermione.”

“You’re perfect”

She kissed him lightly, but it did nothing to soothe him, she rose almost to the point of releasing him before taking him right down to the hilt in one quick, precise movement. She repeated the process, occasionally adding a swirl of her hips as he was fully seated inside her and every time it was punctuated by a somewhat chaste kiss.

He was so close, and he wanted to touch her, wanted to bring her to the same point he was so they could come together, but he couldn’t last with the pace she was setting and the dirty things she was whispering between kisses. And then he understood what her payback was; she would make him beg, albeit for a different reason than he had caused her to; but beg nonetheless; because he simply refused to find his release before her.

She relented in her own torturous way, still barred from using his own hands he watched her circle her clit as she fucked him, bringing herself up to speed. When she traced one wet finger over his lips, he gladly flicked his tongue out for another taste of her.

“You like telling me what to do, when I can come, don’t you Draco?”

Unable to speak as she took him deeper, he nodded and a moment later managed a ragged yes.

“You tell me I'm good when I do what I'm told… Am I going to be able to say the same for you?”

“Y-yes, gods yes.”

She could see the strain on his face, his brow furrowed as he concentrated while she used him, fucking herself and letting him spectate when all he wanted was to reach out and... No! he didn’t want her to stop when he was so close.

She knew he was about to come; she was out for payback, but she wanted this to be fun, there was no point truly denying him (maybe some other time they could have fun with that). The moment she felt her release hit, she gave her permission and he obeyed perfectly (evidently, he liked being ordered a little), she could feel him twitch inside her and she timed her praises with each pulse of his orgasm.

Feeling boneless and exhausted, she stayed on top of him, her muscles twitching sporadically. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed gentle kisses into her hair as they both came down. Tilting her head back to kiss him properly, they stayed that way for a minute and when she broke away she told him just how well he’d done as he softened and slipped out of her, their combined fluids pooling on his pale skin. After cleaning up a bit, she pulled him close and he rested his head on her bare chest listening to her slowing heartbeat, enjoying being close.

Giving up control was still a little new for them and they’d been doing it in small doses, testing the water; both wanting to be in command meant a lot of jockeying for position; sure, it was great fun; but it became a slight interruption and perhaps a little unfair considering he was stronger and found it easier to gain the upper hand, in short, it could be a hindrance. It was the realisation that any control she had, he let her have, that inspired them to define when they wanted to take the reins or let things happen without interference. It was fair, it solved the argument they’d been having at the time, and it opened up new and exciting territories for them to explore. After sitting down and talking things out there were things they had decided to stay away from, but a little restriction was serving them well as they advanced; Hermione had naturally researched and proved that being a swot could be incredibly helpful in all matters.

 

oOo

It was still early, and they had plenty of time before needing to head down for breakfast; too tired to bother moving, they talked about their plans for the day, Arles was their destination but there were a number of things they had planned to fit in, both were happy to time things meticulously. The Amphitheatre and Roman monuments were a must and Hermione had been going on about some yellow café she wanted to visit, along with a particular spot by the Rhône linked with a Dutch painter she loved. Her excitement had bled through to him and he found himself equally as keen to visit these places as she talked about how this Vincent fellow’s art inspired her.

After a quick shower they met the rest of their friends for a slow breakfast, including a discussion about everyone else’s plans; Harry and Ginny were off to Cannes for the day, Ron and Pansy were staying in Bandol and weren’t very convincing with their half-hatched plans, it was obvious breakfast was as far as they were going to make it.

 

oOo

Getting stuck into their itinerary as soon as they arrived in town, they walked the Amphitheatre and found their way to the roman/Romanesque monuments; taking their time, blending in with the other summer tourists they were like any other Muggle couple in love. They both rattled off facts about Roman history in the area, eventually ending up in a discussion about German occupation during World War Two.

Unfortunately, they had a rather nasty encounter with a daily prophet reporter on assignment who got a little too excited about finding them in the maze of narrow streets. Draco hated the attention, but it was Hermione’s reaction to the man’s hassling that prompted him into hitting the fellow with a rather nasty itching jinx (well-aimed to be particularly uncomfortable) and a tongue-tie curse for being a nuisance.

They were ultimately private people and the idea of their relationship making the paper was not a pleasant thought, if Skeeter got a hold of photos of them wandering happily down the street she would have a field day. Working in a closed environment meant that the only people aware of their relationship were those they told personally and considering they were co-workers, they were careful about keeping things under wraps; but the main reason they tried not to be obvious was the simple fact that the ex-death eater, Malfoy heir and the brightest witch of her age, Golden girl, were not a couple many would approve of. In the early stages of their relationship opinions had the power to kill it, but now they were stronger and part of proposing in the first place was to say that he wanted to weather the storm of going public fully committed and united.

Leaving the reporter behind, they both did their best not to think about it, getting back to enjoying a day out together, both having learned at a young age to ignore poor experiences with wizarding media.

As the day wore on their feet grew weary, so, they stopped for coffee in the Yellow café. He really liked Van Gogh’s work, having seen a few in the National Gallery and on all manner of souvenirs in the small town, he was already planning on a trip to the gallery in Amsterdam.

Feeling sufficiently recharged, they wandered through quaint, cobbled alleys, eventually deciding to walk along the Rhône until they found a good spot for a picnic. They chatted, ate and laid in the grass as the world and the water flowed by them. Basking in the afternoon sun, they watched it slowly sink below the horizon, enjoying the lingering warmth and the changing sky. Having seen all the postcards and renderings of paintings made by the town’s most famous resident, they spoke animatedly about how he might have painted the sky above them now, how he would have captured the movement of the clouds as the day came to a close, adding shades of grey and gold over the blending shades of oranges, pinks and lilac.

It was past seven when Hermione and Draco apparated back to the house. Finding everyone gathered in the kitchen, they joined Ginny and Harry in listening to Ron and Pansy attempt to make up details when, in actual fact they had spent most of the day doing Merlin only knows what indoors; it was equal parts hilarious and gross, but they were still very much in the bubble and it didn’t look like bursting anytime soon.

Hermione and Draco were both glad their friends had found happiness with one another, it seemed rocky beginnings had once again led to something more and they all found themselves able to relate to one another’s situations. That didn’t mean that Harry and Ginny didn’t fit with the dynamic; They became willing mediators and had hosted a number of pity parties, wine only dinners and received their fair share of ‘I'm sorry I dragged you into this mess’ firewhiskey. While most of the time their friends were fine and dandy; Harry and Ginny understood how simplified things were for them in comparison and realised that the reason their friends (and family) trusted them so much, was for the simple fact that the lack of complication gave them a better idea of normal.

After catching up, swapping stories and teasing Harry and Ginny for being sickeningly cute as they regaled everyone with tales of their morning exploring and afternoon sailing off the coast of Cannes; the girls headed upstairs to change. The moment their girlfriends were out of earshot, the boys began planning an evening of mischief in Monaco, before heading upstairs to get ready themselves.

A quick knock on the door and Draco was greeted with the most tantalizing sight. He couldn’t help looking her up and down. Silver heels glowed in the low light, peeking out from under her dress. Merlin her dress; such a deep shade of midnight blue, it was almost black. Tiny gems were scattered across the material in a seemingly random pattern, which he later realised were repetitions of the constellation he was named for; a nice little touch on her part and quite the turn on. The shimmer of silk and glint of diamantes offset one another perfectly; The elegant off-shoulder neckline showcased her lightly tanned skin and he swept his eyes down to her waist where the gown flared into a gentle A-line. She looked like a dream and he was utterly entranced.

She smiled at him and that just completed the look; her deep red lips curving into a proud smile as she saw just how she had struck him. Sometimes he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be with her. After the start they’d had, all he could do was wonder why he hadn’t seen how perfect she’d always been; would have saved himself a lot of trouble if he had; but no matter what, his life had led him here and the only thing on his mind was how perfect the ring he had tucked away in his bag would look with the dress she was wearing, or any dress…better yet no dress.

Magic really was a blessing he thought absentmindedly as he watched her begin to tame her hair. Getting dressed, he made short work of his bow tie and with a lingering glance and a kiss to her bare shoulder, he headed back downstairs to wait with Harry and Ron looking equally dazed after seeing their own partner’s attire.

The sounds of laughter and chatter from the staircase had all three men on their feet in seconds. Ginny came down first in a form-fitting, red sequin dress that almost matched Potter’s blush. Next was Hermione, her hair flowing down her back in loose curls, her dress swaying with each step she took, she looked classic and perfect and Draco shot a glare at Ron for reaching over and attempting to close his mouth. Last was Pansy; his friend was not one to be outdone, her magenta dress was something only she could pull off, the deep v-neck and non-existent back showed as much skin as possible without appearing obscene; it was Draco’s turn to close Weasley’s trap as he took in the final result of Pansy’s primping.

Apparating to the designated spot near Monte-Carlo; they all stood outside and marvelled at the structure before them for far longer than necessary. Following behind tourists and serious gamblers alike, they went in and headed straight for the wizarding establishment hidden inside the famous casino. Stepping into the atrium, they were greeted by a small elf who led them to their table for dinner.

The group laughed and drank and gambled the night away. They left after midnight, pockets in relatively good shape, well and truly intoxicated on good firewhiskey and laughter; they must have looked quite odd in their dress robes and gowns walking the streets, seeking late night adventure. Heels were transfigured into flats and they made their way down to the water, not noticing how far they had walked. They sat on the docks of the yacht club and watched the stars twinkling in the sky, talking about nothing and everything, each content in their lots.

After sobering up enough to apparate, they all parted ways to fall into bed, stumbling down the long hallway, happy and buzzing in the aftermath of such a memorable night. Whispers of what Hermione wanted him to do to her hung between them in the darkness until her ideas were snatched up and put to good use. They fell asleep in an intoxicated haze of warmth and comfort.

 

oOo

The next three days passed quickly, their days a whirlpool of sightseeing and doing whatever people stupidly in love with one another do. No matter how spent she was, at the end of the day, it was worth it. She’d thought about having a lazy holiday but honestly, it just wasn’t them; completely unable to sit around and do nothing, they absolutely wore themselves out (which did mean that they out of steam once or twice and ended up snoozing the second they hit the bed). She rather liked that she wasn’t alone in wanting an active holiday, for every single thing she wanted to see, he matched her; just as excited to go out and live by ‘Carpe Diem’ as she was; Even if it did end with her needing a massage, to deal with a particularly persistent cramp in her foot… Sandals had been a poor choice.

They went looking through the markets in Nice, overwhelmed by the colours and smells. She pointedly avoided most stores for the simple fact that Draco tended to be a little overzealous when it came to spending on her, or attempting to spend on her; though she did allow him to buy a few lovely undergarments (which she had gladly modelled) to make up for the most recent victims of some rather passionate fucking, that saw a few rather nice pieces of lingerie rendered unsalvageable, even for a witch.

A quick spell to drop their things home and he somehow managed to convince her that jumping off the rocks under the lookout was a good way to cool off. She had to admit it was fun, even though she hated heights, his promise to be there at the bottom gave her the courage she needed (what was that saying about jumping off cliffs? It definitely wasn’t relevant). Relaxing in the salty water until they were both wrinkled, eventually, they dried off, braved the scorching rocky shore and started the trek up to castle hill waterfall. Snapping photos of the view as they went and comparing once they reached the top, she found that he had taken quite a number of candids when she hadn’t been aware. They were so lovely she couldn’t even manage slight annoyance.

The next day, they returned to Monaco to see the palace and the church Grace Kelly got married in, wandering through quaint cobblestone alleys, hand in hand, she honestly couldn’t imagine being happier. Every now and then they’d stop and browse in a souvenir shop; just for the fun of looking at tacky merchandise (though when she came across a fan, she gladly paid the stallholder a couple of francs in the hopes of combatting the summer heat).

Seeking further relief from the sun, they stopped wandering aimlessly and started wandering in search of gelato…A bit of chocolate smudged on her cheek afterwards prompted a rather flavourful snog (even if it was a little sticky) before they headed back to the house to continue that train of thought.

The fourth day they spent in Marseille and both enjoyed the rich history of the place, from the Cathedral to the Port; it was, all in all, a wonderful day; until the same Prophet photographer turned up at the same beach they had been happily frolicking on. This time around she had far less patience and the altercation ended with his camera being thrown in the water. It took her a while to calm down, but after sending the man off with a slew of creative hexes to deal with, she managed and thanked her lucky stars for wandless magic. Having taken care of the issue herself, she moved on from it much quicker, used to the invasion of privacy but no less annoyed by the occurrence. It helped that she knew he lost everything he shot and would be going back to England with his tail between his legs to receive a lashing from his boss.

The way Draco looked at her after more than made up for all the trouble though. So she felt a little empowered by the fact her vindictive streak made him burn a little hotter for her, she felt the same about his Slytherin cunning and somehow, she ended up wondering why things never slowed down; after a year she would have expected as much but she was as insatiable as ever and he was more than keeping up. Settling into the sand beside him and taking his hand, just because; she liked to think that part of their relationship was secondary to the wholesome way they existed together; it was one aspect of many orbiting the sun that was the foundation of their relationship.

 

oOo

Each night they rejoined their friends, who happily chased their own interests when not seeking adventure as a group. She was able to recognize the differences in interests and people and liked that there was no air of annoyance directed at one person or other for being dragged to something they didn’t feel like seeing.

Harry and Ginny were the prime examples of relaxed holidaymakers, avoiding cameras and eyes where they could; in favour of activities that played into their active sense of adventure while remaining ‘chill’ as Harry aptly put it; for herself and Draco, history and sightseeing with a little relaxation thrown in was the perfect balance. Ron and Pansy were all too happy to spend half the day in bed and the other half shopping or eating; Pansy could hold her own against Ron’s appetite when she was so inclined, it made Hermione a little jealous of her figure, even if she was no slouch herself.

The week drew to a close and by all accounts it was a blinding success, they’d all seen and done so much in a short time, packed in socializing and wine tastings and a range of other touristy things normal people did in the south of France (minus ducking wizarding paparazzi, because you couldn’t travel with the golden trio and not draw attention); but nothing truly took Draco’s mind off the plans he had for their last day. He was doing his best to hide his nerves, but Hermione was particularly observant; it didn’t help that he could barely sleep, she picked up on his restlessness very quickly and the night before what might turn out to be the best or worst day of his life, he was dead on his feet, praying for a minute of sleep to be able to function the next day.

Sometime around three in the morning, she caught him tossing and turning in frustration and very quickly set herself to the task of helping him sleep; it had been more than enjoyable for the both of them; but he ended up worse off, far too keyed up, his mind went from mild panic to full-blown spiral. Usually, he would talk to Hermione about it, but naturally wanting it to remain a surprise created a small dilemma; so he suffered his self-doubt and anxiety in silence as the hours ticked by.

He started talking himself out of it, giving himself reasons to postpone or never ask at all; old insecurities bubbling to the surface like a potion on too high a heat. But he managed to stop himself before it all bubbled over. He loved her, he was more than certain she loved him back and if they could survive their pasts, all their trauma and come out a strong, functional couple then a ‘No’ would just be a bump in the road.

Accepting that asking her wasn’t about him, but rather ‘them’, calmed him. If she wasn’t ready, it wasn’t the end and he decided to use the extra hours his anxiety induced insomnia granted to mentally prepare himself for either answer and every scenario. He knew he was far too wrapped up in his thoughts but in a way, it helped to flesh out his emotions; when dawn broke the next day he was prepared, self-assured and in the right headspace to say all that he had been meaning to.

For the most part, his plans were simple, that was a small mercy, one less thing to stress about and not much could go wrong. Being the last day, the group would naturally spend the morning packing up (their Monday morning portkey was ridiculously early to ensure various bosses weren’t pissed off), but packing was simply a convenient misdirection, using the mundane to create a false sense of normalcy.

Hermione had told him about her parents their first night in the astronomy tower and about the carousel by the sea she had spent hours on as a little girl, the memory that helped her produce a Patronus (aside from receiving her Hogwarts letter).

She’d been afraid of it at first, irrationally unsettled by the expressions painted on the horses; so her dad had gone on it with her, 'round and 'round they went, until she was laughing and squealing with glee. He’d seen the still photographs her mother had taken the first time he'd entered her room in Grimmauld Place, Hermione’s curls just as wild and her expression the purest joy he’d ever seen captured. Every year her family returned, she would pick her favourite horse and her father would go with her.

He understood how hard it had to be to recall memories of her family; things had been pretty tentative between them that first night, the way she trusted him with her pain had stayed with him.

He was sentimental enough to relate to the connection she had with the place, the significance it held for her and he wanted to make it part of proposing. Sure, it was a reach and maybe it wouldn’t pay off, he also felt guilty for asking her to take him to places she’d seen plenty of times; but he needed to be sure what he was planning was right, wanted to feel it for himself and connect with her stories and life from before the darkness of their school years invaded, leaving them both with scars.

It was like the last piece of the puzzle and when it came time for said plans to become action, he was resolved and certain. He knew it was the right place, the right time and all that was left was to knock over what Harry and Ron had termed in their planning sessions as ‘the dominoes’.

The first was to bribe the man running the carousel to keep it open late, which he had taken care of the day before and was actually easier said than done; overtime was not something that came cheap (but he hardly cared about the cost, surprisingly convincing him that had taken time).

After packing everything up and spending their last afternoon resting tired feet and soaking up the last bit of sun they could, the group dressed up once again and went out for a spectacular dinner. That was the second domino; they went to a small wizarding establishment that knew to let them in the back entrance and had the best seafood around. They chatted excitedly amongst themselves and there was a brief moment where he almost forgot he wasn’t proposing at dinner, stunned by how gorgeous she was he’d just about jumped the gun.

Third, someone would suggest going for a walk; Pansy had ended up being the one to knock that particular domino over and suffered a number of jokes from Harry and Hermione about walking in her heels; defending herself by insisting that her Louboutin’s were like walking on clouds, only to be shot down by Ginny who informed the group that she had used one hell of a cushioning charm on them.

The fourth domino was to get her on the carousel (easier said than done if she questioned it) that was where Ron, Pansy, Harry and Ginny came in, they managed to convince her to get on so he could snap a picture. Once the ride was moving, they slipped off to carry out their roles.

The fifth domino was essentially waiting for Hermione to notice her closest friends holding up parts of the question that would define his and her future. Four friends (who were really family), four words, one answer and that was it.

His girl was quick, she didn’t miss much; frankly it was a wonder they managed to get ‘Will you marry me?’ in order without her noticing and they’d had to be quick to time it right. As soon as she went by he could see her double take. He had to stifle a laugh at the fact she had been so shocked she had sat through another rotation without moving a muscle; he’d asked the operator to stop it, but before he could, she had jumped off and barreled right into him, sporting the brightest smile he’d ever seen. Slipping out of her embrace, Draco got down on one knee and did his best not to forget what he wanted to say or skip to the end.

 

oOo

“Hermione, I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, done more than few things I'm not proud of, I was broken and hopeless. The person I was then, never could have dreamed I’d be here in this moment. You took a lost man who didn’t know what love was, never even thought himself capable of it and showed compassion and kindness; you helped me find my humanity by being my friend and I hate saying that I fell for you because being in love with you feels more like flying … I can’t say that it was fate that brought us together or destiny, or that it was written in the stars; our beginning was never a fairytale, it was dark, painful and messy and it was hard work…but I’ll gladly spend the rest of my life earning every day I spend with you, because for all the darkness; the present and future is blinding. Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?”

oOo

There was a tense second where she remained silent and he had to rethink what being nervous meant. From behind him, he heard Weasley call out for her to hurry up, making him cringe. She looked away for a moment and he watched as she broke out into excited laughter before pulling him up and crushing him in a tight hug that he wished never ended.

Her yes was the quietest whisper before he kissed her. Everything in his peripheral melted away so when Harry, Ginny, Pansy and Ron came over to congratulate them, he was just as startled as Hermione, breaking away with a jolt.

Pansy was the first to approach him while Hermione was trapped with Ginny.

“Hey, lover boy, you forgot to give her the ring!”

Pansy clapped him on the back and laughed with him until they were both crying. When they regained some sort of composure, she gave him a playful push in the right direction and he quickly set the situation to rights.

He took Hermione’s hand gently and slipped the ring on her finger. He’d had it made especially for her, the band morphed into an emerald snake delicately wrapped around a single ruby, faceted to look like a rose. After reciting the sizing spell the jeweller had given him, he watched it coil tighter to fit her perfectly. He’d never thought it would be a satisfying sight, but there was a rightness to it.

The rest of the night passed in a strange, fuzzy haze of joy and relief. The only clear thing was Hermione; when she glanced his way or spoke, it was like having a secret, but the best part was that all the people they cared about were in on it too, only not on the same level if that made sense.

He’d decided not to give her a promise ring, he wasn’t one to do things halfway; The second he’d been sure, he’d started planning; that moment had arrived three months after they’d started dating and where she was rational, he followed his instincts and this time they led him true.

 

oOo

They were running late… again. That seemed to be a regular occurrence because someone couldn’t keep his hands off his fiancée; only this time it was because they’d both managed to sleep through their alarm.

Every time she caught sight of her ring or thought about it, she got an excited chill down her spine. She wouldn’t have cared if he’d just asked out of the blue, perhaps over breakfast; but the sheer amount of thought, what he told her afterwards about planning it, made her realise just how right she was to say yes. She hadn’t even stopped to worry about how long they’d been dating, both of them counted the time spent as friends as part of their relationship; and honestly after everything that had happened between them over the past year, there was no one else for her and it was ultimately no one’s business (and if things seemed too fast they could always just have a long engagement, but that would be up to them).

Their trunks were packed and waiting for them by the door as they rushed out. If there was one thing they didn’t want to miss, it was the train ride back to Hogwarts. Funny how former enemies can have similar feelings about the symbolism of taking the train; both of them chose to travel that way for the simple joy of nostalgia.

Speaking of nostalgia; She’d cried when he explained about wanting to include something of her family in proposing and words couldn’t express how overwhelmingly thoughtful it was to have her closest friends be part of it.

A few days later she’d been hanging out with Harry when he let slip that Draco had asked for his and Ron’s permission and joked about how annoying it had been to keep the secret. She’d gone home and practically attacked her rather surprised fiancé (she was going to say it until it got old which would be the second she could officially call him husband) who had been in the middle of making dinner; sufficed to say it ended up burnt and they ordered in.

They somehow managed to make it on board the express with time to spare, running through the wall hand in hand after apparating and getting through the Kings Cross crowd. Both of them had a hard time putting on the façade of stern professors once they were back among their students and once they found a compartment, all hope of professionalism flew out the window. No, not like that:

Neville had joined them and immediately began needling her with questions, ever the observant one; Draco had been called on to deal with a bit of Slytherin mischief occurring (seriously the train hadn’t even moved yet!) and seeing as it was his former house, the two Gryffindors had agreed he would be better equipped to handle it.

That left her at her friend’s mercy;

“So, judging by that rock you're wearing, I guess your trip ended on a high note?”

She nodded with a shy smile.

“You know you have to tell the headmistress, right? I mean I wouldn’t even know if I hadn’t walked in on the two of you snogging, frankly, the jury is still out on obliviating myself.”

“Okay, you alohamoraed the lock on my classroom door so, not one hundred per cent on me, honestly Neville it was just a kiss!"

"Yeah, but it was you and Malfoy and no one saw that one coming, not even Trelawney! I genuinely wonder what the headmistress will say."

"Well, we have a meeting with McGonagall after the feast and we’re making a proper announcement next week. We were never really keeping it completely quiet, but we didn’t want it to affect our jobs if things didn’t work out… I have a strange feeling Minerva won't object though.”

“Well, I'm happy for you two, it’s about damn time.”

The train jolted as it started to pull out of the station and she caught sight of Draco heading back down the hall toward her, his eyes found hers causing him to break into a wide smile which she returned. He sat close beside her and took her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. She realised then as they hurtled toward another year together, that whatever the future held, he had been right; it was going to be bright.

 

Fin.

oOo


End file.
